Life and Death of a Teenage Superhero
by Fragile B
Summary: When Dr. Drakken develops an interest in Ghost-tech, Danny Fenton must struggle to keep his life from falling apart, while Kim Possible is forced to face that there may be a limit to what she can do.
1. Chapter 1

Someone was knocking on Danny Fenton's bedroom door.

His eye flickered open and he glimpsed at the clock. At the sight of the red _7:00_ Danny groaned, then he rolled over and burrowed deeper into his pillow. He was _not_ waking up before at least 1 o'clock. No way.

"Danny! You have to get up! It's _Saturday_!" Danny mumbled a confused curse. It was Jazz. And somehow she had worked his reply into her annoying demand. It didn't make any sense.

"Go away, Jazz!" yelled Danny, half muffled by his sheets. "It's Saturday," he mumbled, tiredly. She knew that. What could he possibly have to do on Saturday? The C.A.T. was _last_ week.

Danny shot out of bed, phasing right through his covers. His head bounced off the roof with a light _bonk_ , and he dropped back down, pulled by sudden weight. Now wide awake, he managed to catch himself about an inch from the hardwood floor. He floated in place.

"The C.A.T.!" he cried. He hit the floor, and then scrambled to his feet to find clothes not stained with dirt or ectoplasm. It being the end of the week made that quite a challenge.

Danny normally found it pointless to put much effort into how he looked, especially since his clothes were often ruined by breakfast, but he needed to look like he was making an effort today. Lancer was doing him a big favour letting him retake the C.A.T., and Danny wanted to thank him somehow, even though he was definitely going to fail.

The _Career Aptitude Test_ was the most important test Danny would ever take in his entire life. A week ago he had tried to cheat on it only to find out that cheating would lead to the deaths of his friends, his family, and even Mr. Lancer. And somehow, as if that wasn't horrifying enough, it would create a monster that would go on to kill the entire world.

Because of the C.A.T. Danny became that monster. He had managed to avoid that future with the help of the Ghost Clockwork, and get a second chance. But that didn't make the C.A.T. any less important. It still decided his future, one way or another. And Danny hadn't studied.

He'd just been so busy. Nobody had told the Ghosts how important the test was, for their future as well as his, and they worked to steal every free hour he had – not that he had many. He also had detention with Lancer. You'd think that would give him time to study, but it only made sure sneaking out to fight ghosts would take even longer.

Danny was just glad his parents hadn't grounded him – that would have been too much, even for him. They knew he was retaking the test, but Jazz had convinced them that she spoke to Lancer and got him more time to study – a favour he really hadn't thanked her enough for.

Of course, her favour will only make it worse when he fails. When all his "extra study-time" doesn't amount to anything. What will he say then?

"It doesn't matter," said Danny, with a regretful grin; "That's a problem for another day. And I don't need to pass. I just need to do the test, and _not_ cheat. Who knows, it is multiple choice – maybe I'll get lucky."

Danny grabbed his study sheets off his desk before he swung open his door, slid past the still-waiting Jazz, and ran downstairs. He didn't need to pass to avoid the Dark future, but it would sure help in making a better one – preferably one that involved NASA. If he skipped breakfast he could fly a little slower and study on the way to school.

Jazz raced down behind him, offering the standard encouragements. "I believe in you," she said. "Just stay calm, and focus, and you'll do great!" Danny appreciated it, even if he sounded sarcastic in his thanks.

His parents were working on something in the Emergency Ops Center on the roof, so Danny had to run a little further before he transformed, just in case they were looking out the window. He was about to run out the door when Jazz grabbed his hand and pulled him back.

"What is it, Jazz?" said Danny. "I'm kind of in a rush. "

" I know," she said, "I just wanted to say: You don't have to worry. No matter what happens, you won't ever become _him_. This test is important, but it doesn't get to decide your future. You do. And I know you haven't studied as much as you should have, but I really do think you'll do well."

Danny smiled. "Thanks, Jazz."

And then the door exploded in, throwing Danny into Jazz. A block of splintered wood clipped the back of his head as he fell.

The last thing Danny saw as the world sunk into darkness was a toxic green glow.

* * *

When Danny came to he found himself alone in a dimly lit, compact room. He was stuffed between stacks of wooden boxes of various sizes.

Danny groaned. "That's not a good sign. I better not have been kidnapped by the Box-Ghost." He tried to stand, but found his arms and legs bound with zip-ties. Ghosts don't use zip-ties. "Ugh. I guess that explains why my ghost sense didn't go off."

The room shook with the sound of sliding metal, followed by a heavy _thunk._ The sole door to the cramped room swung open, revealing a bulky man, clad in a bright red jumpsuit that came over his face in a hood with dark, eye-shielding goggles, not unlike the kind his Danny's mom often wore.

Danny sighed. Why did his human enemies all dress so stupid?

"Good, you're awake," said the man. He held a thin metal rod, with two thin, curved points at the end. He pat it against his hand and it hummed threateningly.

"Okay, kid, here's how it goes. You've been kidnapped. Now the doc is talking to your folks - it's them he wants, see? You're leverage – to threaten, you know? I don't expect it to be a problem. Now, you stay quiet and let me sleep, and when we land I'll move you from this here closet to a room with a t.v. You bother me, and I'll zap you with this here zapper. It is quite painful, I promise. Understood? Good."

Then the jumpsuit-wearing man slammed the door shut. Danny was wide-eyed with disbelief. He phased through his ties and stood up. Unsure, he turned invisible and stuck his head through the door. His guard was stretched out in a lawn-chair, resting quietly. It was a wider room, filled with three tables, a fridge in the corner, and sinks and cupboards against the wall. Danny pulled his head back.

"They really did just stick me in a closet, didn't they?" He shuck his head. "Going Ghost!" he said, and transformed. The door clanged and swung open with a yell.

"What did I say!" Danny gave the guard a fast tap on the head, which sunk him to the ground.

Danny stepped out of the closet, and floated over the henchman's body.

"I bet they have Jazz, too," he said. He looked down at the guard crumpled below him, then hefted his body onto the lawn-chair.

Danny rubbed the back of his neck as he thought. Should he find his parents first, or Jazz? The guard groaned and Danny frowned. If Jazz's guard is as stupid and violent as his was she might in trouble. But it might be best to find out who's behind all this first.

The man stirred and unconsciously reached for his weapon, which was jammed against his side. Danny hummed and flicked the button on the side of the rod. Then he set off to free Jazz as the man convulsed back to sleep.

* * *

Danny noticed a few cameras placed strategically throughout the halls, so he continued the rest of his search invisibly. The ship was much larger than Danny had expected, and the halls were filled with dozens of red-jumpsuit wearing henchmen, going to and fro, completing their evil tasks. This was a bigger operation than anything Danny had ever seen before. Even the Guys In White only sent out two agents at a time. Whoever was behind this must offer serious benefits.

Not far from where he had been held Danny came upon a large chrome door, guarded by two very men with very big guns. Danny waved at them as he phased through the door.

He found himself inside a large conference room with a single, round table in the center. The table had a logo on it that Danny didn't recognize.

Danny's parents where chained to the far wall, faced toward a thin man with light blue skin, wearing a dark blue suit. He held stretched out a large sheet in front of the Fentons, and while Danny couldn't see what was on it, he presumed it a blueprint.

"But what powers it?' asked the blue man, clearly frustrated.

"Ectoplasm!" Jack answered, loudly, in his excited, booming voice. "The shield is a form of filtered ectoplasm, pulled straight from the Ghost Zone! All it takes is a – "

"Jack, dear," interrupted Maddie, kindly. "This man kidnapped us, and our children," she reminded.

"Oh, don't be like that, Maddie," said the blue man. "We were having such a good talk. I'm a scientist, just like you! I just want to understand how your technology works, so that I can help _improve_ it – and then use it to take over the world!" he coughed. "And I told you, your children are fine! They're watching a movie, or playing a board game or something. I'm sure they're having fun! Quite safe!"

"So you said." Maddie narrowed her goggle covered eyes. "And yet we're still chained up."

"Yeah!" said Jack. "And where did you get those blueprints, anyway? Those are Fenton-patented!"

The blue man rolled up the papers and handed them to a green-clad woman who sat in the corner. "My assistant, Shego, _acquired_ these designs from a secret American agency known as the GiW. We realized they must have stolen them from you, and decided to return them. Isn't that right, Shego?"

"Oh, absolutely," said Shego, in a dry tone. "You're welcome."

"I just wanted to talk about them first. As to the chains. . . well, I suppose that is a problem." He hit a red button on the wall and Danny's parents fell to the floor. The blue man gave an exceptionally creepy, wide smile. "Now will you help me?" he asked.

Jack and Maddie stood up, and shared a look. When they turned back to the mad scientist, it was clear they weren't sold by his gesture.

"Oh, forget this," said Shego. She marched up to Jack and grabbed his collar with an acidic fist. "Tell us what we want. . . or else," she said, with an ironic smile.

Danny jumped into action. He revealed himself with a beam that knocked Shego into the wall.

"You need to work on your negotiation skills," said Danny. He moved between his parents and Shego, who quickly rose to her feet. "You're supposed to reveal your evil true nature _after_ you get what you want."

Shego glared at Danny and her hands burned dangerously.

"And who are you?" asked the blue scientist, in an angry, pitched voice. Shego rolled her eyes.

"It's that Ghost-kid who was all over the news." She grinned at Danny. "I think his name is. . . Inviso-Bill."

Danny cringed. "I knew that would haunt me," he mumbled. "It's Phantom, Danny Phantom. And as you can see," Danny pointed his thumb back at his glaring parents, "I've already got some crayola coloured crazies to deal with, and I'm not looking to complete the set. So if you don't mind, we'll be on our way."

Danny reached back to turn his parents intangible when he was suddenly knocked over the head. He fell to the floor.

"You're not taking us anywhere, Ghost," said Maddie. She quickly pulled back from her high-kick and moved to a defensive position worthy of a ninth-level black-belt. "Do you think we'd believe you followed us all this way to _save_ us? Your hero facade doesn't fool everyone – especially not _us_. We know how evil and twisted you really are."

"Good one, Mads," said Jack. "Quick, Dr. Drakken, help capture this menace once and for all! Get the Fenton Thermos!"

Drakken and Shego looked at each other and shrugged, equally confused. It seemed in the face of his town menace Jack forgot who had kidnapped and threatened who.

"Ah! Yes! I will do just that, Jack," said Drakken, "and then we can talk more about ectoplasm. Shego, go retrieve the. . . uh. . . _Fenton Thermos_ from storage."

Danny groaned and rubbed his head. "Ugh. Fine. I'll save you guys last." Then he phased through the floor.

* * *

An alarm began to ring noisily once Danny fled, which added an unwanted _shrill_ section to the chaotic orchestra being preformed throughout the halls of the airship. Heavy boots pounded on the steel floor, interspersed with a chorus of shouts and calls, along with the occasional discharge of both tasers _and_ lasers.

The red-shirts scurried about, searching for any sign of Danny, completely unprepared to detect a being who could walk through walls, disappear, and fly.

For his part, Danny wasn't doing much better. He was lost. The airship was huge! A seemingly endless maze of corridors and compartments. Danny had flown outside it to get some perspective, and found a floating monstrosity the size of an aircraft carrier.

It was moving fast, too. Once outside, Danny was left behind. He immediately had to catch up with the ship, and didn't have time to figure out where they were, but a glimpse between clouds revealed a lot of water, and nothing else, so he could certainly guess.

They had shoved Danny inside a closet, so those were what he looked for first, but he was having no such luck.

And then, through the senseless noise, Danny heard something else, something unexpected: laughter. It was faint, but Danny had good ears, and when he focused, he could tell it wasn't the maniacal laughter of a super-villain, so he flew toward it.

Danny passed through two rooms before he found the source. Jazz was sitting stiffly on a couch, a red-suited henchman on either side, and she was laughing. The flat-screen up front was playing some kind of British Drama, but only the guard on the left was watching it. Jazz and the other guard were talking.

The henchmen moved closer to Jazz as he spoke, and stretched his arm over the back of the couch to better face her. ". . . out of here, we could have some fun," he said, with a lick of his lips. "I know this really sweet place. They won't check _your_ id, sweetheart, don't worry. And if you don't like it, well, my place isn't half-bad either."

Jazz smiled. "Heh heh. Yeah. We should totally do that. But first, if you don't mind, I'm really worried about my brother. I would love it if you let me see him." She put her hand on his arm.

Danny was disgusted, although he appreciated the lengths Jazz would go to to save him. He crept up behind the couch and knocked out the creep, as well as his silent, smirking friend.

Jazz jumped up. "Danny!" she cried. He became visible and she hugged him. "Are you alright? Who are these guys? Where are Mom and Dad?"

"I'm fine. These guys aren't ghost hunters – they don't even know anything _about_ ghosts. That's why they kidnapped us. This human blueberry wants Mom and Dad to teach him. He seems like the mad-scientist type, with a super-powered girlfriend."

"What are you going to do?"

Danny shrugged. "I have no idea. They're human, so I can't exactly stuff them in the thermos and call it a day. Right now I'm just focused on getting us out of here. I figure there must be an escape pod or something around here we can steal."

"Sounds like a plan, little brother," said Jazz. She took Danny's hand and he turned her intangible. They flew through the halls of the ship, passing through the still searching crew-members. Jazz spotted a map bolted to the wall, and Danny floated over to it.

There was a little arrow saying _You are Here_ , and a little further away, a floor lower, Danny saw a diagram of what looked like escape pods.

"Now I just need to get Mom and Dad," said Danny. He couldn't very well take Jazz into more danger, but he had no time to lose. Suddenly he had an idea.

Dropping Jazz off inside a storage closet, Danny flew out and overshadowed the first henchman he saw. Then he walked over to the closet and pulled Jazz out, all the while repeating "I need to take the prisoner to the escape pod."

Jazz was confused: she knew it was Danny, but she didn't understand the point. In between his chant Danny quickly spat out, "these guys are pretty stupid," and then said once more, "I need to take the prisoner to the escape pod."

Danny jumped out of his person-suit, who shook his head in confusion.

"What am I doing?" he said. He looked at Jazz, unsure, and then it clicked. "Oh, right. I need to take the prisoner to the escape pod. Brain freeze." He grabbed Jazz by the arm and led her down the hall. She looked over her shoulder and wished Danny luck.

As soon as Jazz was on her way Danny shot through the air, back to where his parents were being held. They had seemed okay when he left them, and he hoped that hadn't changed. He would never be able to forgive himself.

When Danny found the room again his parents were instructing Drakken and Shego in the use of ghost-weapons. Jack explained the blueprints and diagrams he'd carefully spread across the table while Maddie demonstrated the physical weapons. Danny sighed.

"Okay, I'm back," he said, reluctantly. "Did you miss me?" It wasn't Danny's best entrance, but sometimes the perfect moment never comes, and he was tired.

A green ectoplasmic blast hit the wall to his side. "I guess so," he said. The blast was followed by three more. Drakken and Shego weren't used to their new bulky weapons and shot wide, while the Jack and Maddie tried to grab him with the Fenton Fishing-Rod, and the Fenton Net, respectively. Danny easily avoided both traps in the low-roofed room.

Shego threw her gun aside with a yell and leapt at Danny. She kicked him in the chest, which pushed him against the wall. Her acidic glow burned him, but he pushed through it, grabbed her leg, and lifted off the ground. Shego fell back and she dangled in the air. Danny laughed as Shego roared angrily, but then her glow intensified.

Danny yelled in shock as hands seemed to come apart at her touch, fading into the mist that often overtook his legs in flight.

Shego slipped from his grip. She did a flip as she fell, and landed in a crouch. Danny aimed a kick at her head, but she grabbed his leg and swung him across the room, where he slammed into Jack's massive bulk.

Jack stumbled and tripped on Shego's gun. He windmilled his arms, desperate to regain balance as he toppled backward. He swung the fishing-rod in wide arcs, and the string stretched and wrapped up around Maddie's legs.

Maddie was tangled, but she didn't fall – the string had far too much slack to do that – until Danny gave it a hard tug with his newly reformed hands.

Danny put two hands around the ectoplasm-coated string and focused. He went intangible, and used the string as a copper-wire to share it with his parents. With another tug on the string Danny pulled his parents through the floor.

"I'd love to stay and fight," said Danny, half sunk into the floor; "but this has all really got out of hand." He waved at Shego with a grin, to emphasize the pun. Then he turned that wave to a finger-gun, and shot blast of ectoplasm at the table. The table exploded, shattering splinters across the room, and igniting blueprints.

* * *

His work done for now, Danny sank through the floor, after his parents.

Fortunately they hadn't wandered, and were in fact closed in a circle of henchmen.

Danny swept down invisibly, grabbed the string and pulled his parents once more through the floor. Before they could do more than shout in anger they were stuffed into the escape pod with Jazz.

Danny quickly locked the door and smashed his fist on the big red button, disengaging the pod from the ship before his parents could stop him.

Once stabilized the pod hovered in place as the airship flew away. The main computer blinked, and beeped, demanding co-ordinates. Jazz typed in Amity Park, and after a second of calibration, they were on their way home.

It was only when Maddie shouted "Where's Danny?!" that Danny realized his tragic mistake: He had no way of getting Danny Fenton in the escape pod. There was no place he could say he was hiding in the cramped space. Even the bathroom, his usual go-to, had its door wide-open, obviously empty.

"Oh," said Jazz, wide-eyed and panicked. "Well, you see. . ." she was uncertain, but then it dawned on her – the perfect excuse. Perfect, except for that it would make Danny's life much, much harder.

"Danny. . ." she started. "Danny wasn't kidnapped. He left before they even showed up. Lucky."

"That is lucky," said Maddie, smiling. "He had his big test today. It was so nice of Mr. Lancer to give him a second chance."

"It sure was!" exclaimed Jack. "Not everyone gets a second chance. I was lucky myself to get one with Vladdy. I'm sure Danny made the most of it. like I did. We can ask him how it went when we get back."

The rest of the trip home Jazz looked apologetically at the empty air, waiting for some sign from Danny. But he sat silent, and invisible, and wondered what he was going to do now.

If he had been kidnapped he could explain, but now?

Danny wasn't going to get a third chance.


	2. Chapter 2

It was Saturday morning, and while most teenagers were sleeping in, or hanging out at the mall, Kim Possible was in a black van headed towards the airport. This wasn't so uncommon, but what made this noteworthy was that Kim's driver was a white-suited government agent, who wanted her, a high-school cheerleader, to help out his top-secret spy-agency.

But that's just life for Kim Possible – she wasn't exactly a normal teenage girl. Normal girls had boy troubles, Kim had boy troubles and high-stake adventures!

The agent didn't like to talk, and was reluctant to even say where they were going, much less _why_. So Kim had to carefully explain that she never ran off with an ill-dressed stranger without at least some kind of explanation, no matter how shiny their badge was.

All he was willing to say was that a plane was waiting to take her to Washington – he refused to say if he meant the state or the city – and that there had been a break in they wanted her to assist with.

It wasn't much, but it was all Kim was able to get out of him with the time she had.

It didn't help that most of her time was spent convincing him to pick up Ron.

When they pulled up to the airport two more agents were waiting. They introduced themselves as Agent K, and Agent O. Then they immediately walked off, leaving behind only the stern command of: "follow us."

Kim rolled her eyes, but she followed.

They led Kim and Ron not through the airport, but around it, avoiding the crowds, and customs, and headed straight for the tarmac.

Ron, having missed the brief briefing Kim had had, asked the obvious question: "where are we going?" To which Agent O responded, without a single glance back:

"Hold all questions, please."

Kim scoffed. "We're going to Washington. And no, I don't know which one."

"There has been a change of plans," said Agent K, earning an indecipherable look from his partner. The two seemed to engage in a silent conversation. Kim wished they weren't wearing sunglasses, because she couldn't read anything from their stoic faces.

Agent O turned and looked at Kim. "We're going to Amity Park."

They stopped walking.

"You will be briefed on the plane. Come along."

"Amity Park?" clarified Ron, in a high voice. "You said Amity Park, right? Tell me I'm wrong." The two agents looked at Kim as if Ron was her annoying purse-dog that needed to be quieted. "Ghost Capital of the world, Amity Park?" continued Ron, louder, his arms waving. "Home of all things paranormal and spooky? Uh uh, no way. Sorry. Our expertise is in people – _living_ people: that is, people who are alive: they breathe; they eat food, sleep; they have a pulse!" He stuck his hand out at the agents as he counted each point. They were not amused.

"Ron!" Kim shook him. "I think they got it." She turned to the agents with a tight grin, apologizing.

"Your website said you can do anything," said Agent O, suddenly doubting her capability. He looked at his partner who added:

"Her record with Global Justice and other independent agencies suggests a high skill level." He paused. "Ms. Possible. . . do you believe you could engage with, and successfully capture or destroy a. . . ghost?"

"No problem." Kim's voice shook slightly. But she was confident. After all she'd been through, all she'd done, how could she not be? Ghosts were something new, sure, but there was not a doubt in her mind she could deal when the time came.

She tried again, this time injecting her confidence into her words. "I can do anything. Just like you said."

"Good." the agent nodded. "Let's go."

As they walked Kim whispered to Ron: "you shouldn't worry. How many destructive, super-powerful robots have we taken down? We can handle Bebe – we can handle ghosts."

"Yeah, that's true. Still, this doesn't feel right. I'm telling ya, Kim, robots are one thing, and they sort of fall under the mad-scientist umbrella, but ghosts are way outside of our jurisdiction! Where are the Ghostbusters, I ask you!? There's a sacred order to these things. We bust the human bad-guys (and sometimes robots), and they bust Ghosts! And I suppose, also, ghost-robots. Or is that robot-ghosts? Anyways, that's the deal, and I got to say, I think it's pretty fair."

"We're going, Ron," Kim said, with a tired sigh. Ron sounded to raise further protest, but Kim gave him stern look and he slumped down and sighed.

"Fine," he muttered, "but don't expect me to pay-up if we get a call from the Ghostbuster lawyers, asking why we moved in on their turf."

The group moved forward, quickly trailing down the long strip of pavement. At the far end lay their plane, in position and waiting.

Kim thought over her new mission, and wondered if she wasn't in over her head. Ron was overreacting, as he was prone to do. But he wasn't exactly wrong, either.

Kim used to think ghosts were just smoke and superstition, as did the rest of the rational world. Then, a little over a month ago now, Amity Park finally proved to the world that Ghosts were real, once and for all. They were real, and they were very, very dangerous. They could fly, glow, go through solid objects, and, worst of all: they could make an entire city disappear like a card up a sleeve.

That last one was the tipping point.

When Amity Park disappeared, people finally took notice of that small little tourist trap out in the middle of nowhere, claiming to be the Ghost Capital of the World.

And then people panicked.

The top minds in the country were assembled from every field, from geologists to political science professors to rocket scientists, all to figure out what had happened. There were plenty of theories. Kim had spent most of those three days with Global Justice, helping track down every madman with a doctorate.

It wasn't until the city came back that people realized the conspiracy-nuts were right (or some of them were, anyway). It wasn't the Russians, or the Chinese, or Drakken, or Dementor – it wasn't even Aliens! It was Ghosts. Who'd have guessed?

It quickly came out that the Missing City deal wasn't even the first, or the last, of it. The world learned that Amity Park had daily visits from these supernatural invaders, and that, for the most part, it was no big.

 _That_ was the really interesting thing about Amity Park. Of course, it was _so_ like Ron to miss the point entirely, and get hung up on the monsters, and the world-ending threats. Most people didn't care about all that – normal people didn't talk about it.

They talked about the Superhero who stopped the monsters, and saved the world: the Ghost Boy, Danny Phantom! He was the star of every news report, every investigation, every themed party, and _all_ the gossip. He was the Oh Boys times ten.

Kim blushed. Her friend Monique often had a thing or two to say about the dreamy teen-superhero.

'Maybe I'll have something to report back,' thought Kim, as she stepped onto the plane, her grin hidden behind her hand.

* * *

The GiW jet was not normal. It was like a rocket – and at the speed they flew, it surely cut the travel time in half. That would be great, and really, really cool. . . if it hadn't also been a deathtrap. Like, scarier than most of the stuff Drakken dreamed up. The walls violently shook the entire ride; the windows rattled, and Kim was almost positive one of them cracked; and there was an ever present _squeal_ whose source Kim couldn't pinpoint, which made her whole body tense like waiting for a sucker-punch.

Ron kept himself in brace position for most of the flight.

Kim focused on keeping her cool, appearing professional, but she eyed the emergency door, and fingered the ripcord on her parachute. The two Agents didn't appear concerned.

If they were trying to impress, they were failing miserably.

The Agents got straight to work, and Kim struggled to pay attention. They told her about the theft at their office, and handed her a large file on the incident. Kim was sure she couldn't read it, and asked for the spark notes. This didn't faze the Agents. They simply opened a suitcase, pulled out another copy of the file, and read her each report, not skipping a single detail.

It was annoying, but Kim did learn. Apparently, the GiW were the Ghostbusters Ron had mentioned. And, just like he said, they didn't want her to deal with any ghosts.

"Then what were you talking about ghosts for?" Kim asked, annoyed. "If I'm not supposed to fight any, why not say so?"

"We must have a full understanding of your capabilities. Ghosts are a relevant factor in all GiW affairs, and the nature of your relationship to the GiW has yet to be broadly defined. Now, if I can return to Agent M's report of the incident."

Kim shuddered at his use of "affair" and "relationship" in relation to her, but the Agents ignored her disgust.

It eventually became clear to Kim, based on the facts, who it was behind the theft. The skill and strength required to break into the highly secure lab, while evading cameras and personnel, along with the evidence of multiple scorch marks pointed toward only one woman: Shego.

When Kim announced her finding, the two Agents simply nodded, as if they had known it all along. And then Kim realized they _did_ know it all along. They knew about her history with Global Justice, so they must know about her experience with Drakken and Shego. That's why they hired her in the first place!

Kim groaned in frustration, and anger.

"If you knew, why didn't you just say so?!" she burst. "What was the point of reading _every_ word of _every_ report? Haven't you heard of brevity? Getting to the point? I don't need to know everything! Just who, and what I'm dealing with."

The Agents looked at each other.

Kim didn't like getting angry, especially not at people she was trying to help, but a girl can only take so much. Even if that girl's a Possible.

Agent K answered her calmly. He simply said:

"Standard procedure."

* * *

After that brief standoff, the Agents quickly pushed forward. They explained that in the last two hours Shego had been spotted in Amity Park, along with a large aircraft of unknown affiliation, and had kidnapped the Fenton family, notable ghost hunters and inventors.

When they landed Kim refused the offer of a guide, and insisted that the Agents' time would be better spent tracking down Drakken while she and Ron investigated the Fenton household. They didn't appear pleased with the idea, but they gave in.

"The Fentons are prominent inventors, and they work with hazardous materials, and dangerous technology. Touch nothing. A team will be sent by within the hour to secure and catalogue their property – You will turn over your findings to them."

Agent O didn't seem to want to leave it there.

"Don't worry. I can handle anything. That's why you hired me, right?"

With a distrustful glance at Ron, the Agents told Kim to stay put while they acquired her transportation.

The Agents boarded the plane and it slowly drove down the rest of the airstrip towards the hanger. Kim and Ron were left to sit on the cold tarmac while they waited. It wasn't very polite, but Kim was glad to have a moment free of them, to think.

Though soon enough the Agents returned, driving two black jeeps down the runway. They gave Kim the keys to one. She only had her learners permit, but if they weren't going to ask, Kim was so not telling. It would only give them an excuse to follow her around.

Ron was in the car and Kim was ready to go, but there was one thing bothering her.

She pulled the car parallel to the Agents, and rolled down her window. "Y'know, for ghost-hunters, you guys seem to be deliberately mute on the subject. What are we supposed to do if we do run into a Ghost?"

Agent K flicked his glasses down and looked Kim in the eye. For the first time Kim felt like she was talking to a real person, and not a GiW mouthpiece.

"Ms. Possible, you are highly skilled. That is why you were brought onto this mission. However, skilled or not, you're just a teenager. You're here to recover the stolen documents. If you see a Ghost, report it, and let us do our jobs."

* * *

Kim's knuckles turned white as she gripped the steering wheel. She gave the wheel a sharp jerk, and hit the next turn a little too hard. Ron gave her a look.

"I am so _not_ angry," she said. And she wasn't. She was just. . . irritated. She'd dealt with Bonnie more than enough to let a few nasty comments get to her.

"I didn't say anything!"

Kim took a calming breath and focused herself.

They pulled up in front of the Fenton house, and it took a minute for the sight to sink in. Just above the police-tape covered doorway hung a great big neon arrow, letting the world know that this wasn't any ordinary home, no, this was _FentonWorks!_ Whatever that was supposed to mean. And somehow, higher up, there was something even weirder. Some kind of U.F.O shaped. . . thing. . . sat perched atop the roof, looking set to collapse at any second.

"Oh," said Ron. Kim agreed. She got out of the jeep and considered the home's additions. It certainly wasn't the oddest building Kim had ever seen, but for a family home, it sure was interesting.

"Come on, Ron, lets check out the inside. See if we can find any clues about where they were taken."

They stepped into the home, careful not to disturb the shards of wood scattered across the floor. Kim noted a slight path in the debris leading to the door. There were some papers scattered to the side.

"Someone was dragged outside," she realized. "It's a slim trail – probably belongs to the boy. ." scratched into the corner of the fallen notes was a hastily written name. "Danny. So this is where they took him." She looked back at Ron. "That photo they showed us of the family – Mr. Fenton was pretty big, wasn't he?"

"I'd say," Ron confirmed. He spread his arms out to his sides. "He's as wide as three of me! Well, maybe two and a half."

"So he's too big to fit this track. But the rest of the family was pretty slim. This trail could be from any of them, but Shego didn't get them all here. She had to have at least got Mr. Fenton somewhere else."

"Okay," said Ron, unsure. "But what does it matter where she nabb'd 'em?"

"I think if we figure out which rooms she grabbed the Fenton's in," said Kim, slowly; "we might be able to track Shego's movements. See if she went anywhere she didn't need to. Maybe she took more than just the Fentons."

Kim stepped cautiously into the hall. She spied up the staircase. Ron yelled over that he'd found the basement stairway. "Okay, you check that out – look for any sign of Shego, or a struggle. I'm going to go upstairs and check the bedrooms. Maybe see if I can find a way into that deathtrap up on the roof."

The first door Kim opened revealed a small bedroom. The walls were covered with posters of rockets and astronauts, and the spaces between them were filled with the album covers of metal bands that Kim didn't know.

The room was so normal, so typical of a teenage boy, that Kim was momentarily struck. It seemed all the weirdness happening outside the house didn't extend throughout. It was only when Kim noticed a photo the Fenton boy (Danny, she recalled. Danny Fenton. Why was that familiar?) and some of his friends that she realized she was snooping around his room, and he might not appreciate that, even if it did help save him.

Deciding to be as quick and unobtrusive as possible, Kim scanned the floor for sign of struggle. The room was pretty messy, with clothes and books scattered here and there, but no obvious signs of a fight, or Shego.

Just as Kim was about to leave, a shine caught her eye. She looked back, and noticed a strange chrome cylinder peaking out from under the bed.

Kim picked it up and ran her fingers along the thin lines busying around it, like a folded computer circuit. It had the shape of a soup-thermos, and Kim was tempted to dismiss it as a novelty item, but her eye was drawn to the small green button that interrupted the zigzagging design. Her finger hovered over it, when suddenly a familiar voice rang out of her Kimmunicator.

"Um. . . Kim?" Ron's words came hesitantly through the speaker. "You know how those guys said not to touch anything? Well. . . Rufus may have –"

"Ron," said Kim, with a warning in her voice.

"Okay, okay. Maybe it was me," he admitted. "But that's not the point. Something was touched, and, well, maybe you should come down here. Right now. Please."

Kim sighed, slipped the sleek communicator back into her pocket, and shot out the door.

In seconds Kim was passing through the basement door into the enormous lab that lay beneath FentonWorks. It was cluttered with large tables that were covered with glass tubes, full of strange fluids and gases; large, undecipherable machines lined the walls; and a plethora of weapons were scattered about. Somehow, despite all that, the room still managed to feel expansive, like there was room enough to fit anything you could dream of.

It was immediately clear what Ron had done. He was standing a few feet away from a giant octagonal structure built against the far wall, looking worried, and with good reason. Inside the steel ring, swirling and bubbling threateningly, a monstrous chasm of green stirred, and a mysterious purple mist seeped out, rolling and collecting over the sterile white floor.

The mist began to rise. It spiraled up like a coiled spring. And as it grew, it thickened, and darkened, until it finally gained shape.

A woman grow out of the smoke. Her red, watery eyes, peaked out behind dark strands of hair, that reached down to her teal, snake like skirt.

"Ah-ha!" she cackled gleefully. "I am free! But what. . .?" She noticed the two awestruck teenagers beneath her. She flew down and encircled the pair, her long wispy tail trapping them. "Curious. . ." she murmured.

"Hmmm. I do not know of either of you. And yet, you have set me free. I thank you. I am Desiree. It is custom that I now grant you a wish – anything you desire may be yours. Merely speak the words, and you shall have it."

"Oh! Oh! A genie! I've prepared for this!" said Ron, bouncing in place. "I wish – mmmm" Kim slapped her hand over his mouth.

"Ron. . ." she stretched his name. "Maybe think before you speak."

"Good catch, K.P. Good catch. First, I got to know, is this three wishes, or just one? And do we each get a wish? Because I should point out that Rufus deserves some credit in freeing you, so that makes three of us."

"You will only need one, I assure you. Now speak. I must be going."

Ron frowned. "Hey, there's no rule about a time-limit! I got to think. Now, do I want to _own_ Bueno Nacho, or is it that too much responsibility? Maybe it's better to just have unlimited nachos?" he muttered as he tapped his chin.

Desiree seethed. Like a snare, her tail pulled tight around Ron and tore him from the ground. "Make a wish!" she demanded. "I need your power! Wish! Now!"

"Let me go!" squeaked Ron, panicked. His breath lost as Desiree squeezed him tighter, and tighter.

"That's not a wish!" she screamed. "You must say: 'I wish'. I wish! You buffoon! Say it!"

Suddenly Desiree's head cracked back as a thick cylindrical bullet ricocheted off her ear. She reeled as her weightless body spun with the force of the blow.

Ron slipped free and fell to the floor

Desiree gripped her head, and righted herself. She glared down at Kim. "You dare strike me? You. . You. . . _mortal._ "

"You bet she dares!" Ron taunted as he picked himself up. "She's Kim Possible! The mightiest of mortals! And now she's going to put you back in your bottle."

"Ron," said Kim, both flattered and annoyed, "can you let me handle this? Focus on getting that door closed before we get any more trouble coming our way."

Desiree floated down and studied Kim, unconcerned with Ron, who fled behind her. "You think _you_ can handle _me_?" she asked. She seemed genuinely curious, as if she expected Kim to reveal some secret weapon, or hidden potential.

Kim smirked. She didn't have a weapon, but she had a ton of potential. Even so, she got ready to move. She had no idea what she was getting into. "I'd rather not," she admitted. "But you are so forcing my hand."

Desiree grinned at the challenge. "I really must be going, but it has been so long since I have played with a mortal. If you wish for a fight, than I will indulge you."

With an extravagant wave, a torrent of smoke burst up from the ground. It swirled into a vortex, and just like before, as it grew it thickened and solidified. This time, however, from the smoke emerged a nine-foot tall manikin with arms as thick as dinner plates. Kim blanched.

"Please," said Desiree. "Entertain me."

Kim flipped away as the manikin lunged forward. It easily tracked her, and Kim immediately had to cartwheel away as two sledgehammers cracked the tiled floor.

"Hey!" Kim yelled, as she bounced across the lab dodging blows. "I said I _didn't_ want to fight you! I didn't wish for this!"

For a second, the ethereal light surrounding Desiree flickered. She groaned, and clenched her chest. "I may have stretched too far on that one, it is true. No matter. I have power enough for a small sacrifice."

Kim swiped a futuristic looking gun off the floor, and aimed at the giants' head. She pulled the trigger and. . . _click._ Nothing. Great. A lab full of weapons still in workshop mode. The monsters fist came far to close for comfort, and Kim resorted to throwing weapons instead of trying them.

Nothing slowed it down, and Kim was running out of breath. This was quickly becoming a major disaster. This wasn't some robot she could find the off switch for, or splash with water. Her only option was to take down Desiree somehow, and even then, that might not stop the creature.

The manikin smashed a desk that a second ago sat behind Kim. In the wreckage she spotted something sure to work: a net. It was glowing, and Kim hoped that was a good thing.

Running at the manikin, Kim dropped under the punch and slid under its arm. She grabbed the net and pulled it free from the debris. Then, with a well practiced leap, climbed atop the giant. She wrapped her legs around its neck and hugged its unmarked head.

Its arms were too thick for it to reach her, so it bucked, and stomped across the room. Kim tried to steer it where she wanted to go, but had no luck. She just had to wait for the moment to come.

Suddenly, the monster stopped. Kim was confused, and then she realized. She jumped off just as the monster fell backward, trying to crush her.

Kim couldn't sacrifice the height though, and managed to hang onto the ceiling by a sprinkler nozzle.

Desiree floated alongside her, laughing cruelly. Kim had the net in her free hand, but she couldn't use it. Desiree was too quick. She would easily slip away.

If Kim wished for one thing at that moment, it was for. . .

 _BANG!_

Ron! He threw the same strange thermos Kim had used earlier. It passed by Desiree and hit the light fixture.

Desiree shrieked in irritation, as sparks and glass rained over her body.

Kim swung herself and wrapped Desiree in the net, using her weight to pull the Ghost back down to earth.

Kim gracefully rolled out of the way of the flailing body that slammed down behind her.

"This thing has really come in handy," said Ron, as he fiddled with the slightly dented thermos. Desiree flinched.

Heavy footsteps reminded them that they weren't quite done yet. The manikin charged. Kim looked behind her at the giant metal door in the wall, now closed, but which concealed another world.

"Ron, do you think you could get that thing open again?"

"I'm on it!"

Kim ran in front of the door, and felt the cold metal against her back. The monster did not slow. In the corner, Ron hit buttons wildly, and violently, as he tried to beat the machine into submission.

Every second the monster ran felt like an hour, and all Kim could think about was how she could still feel the cold at her back.

And then she didn't, and the monster was on her.

.

.

.

The world she saw was green. Shades of green and bursts of purple. And the sky was filled with doors, which floated just as she did. The monster swiped at her, but its arm passed right through her.

She was solid – solid in a way that nothing else there was – but it couldn't touch her. She looked past the manikin, and saw the swirling vortex that she had come through.

A world inside a basement.

She reached out for it, but found herself slipping away, floating with the force of her entrance. She was in space.

She searched her bag and pulled out a grappling hook. It swung with practiced ease, but it passed right through the steel ring.

Kim turned this way and that, and floated ever farther away.

Ron's head came through the portal. He was panicked, and called out for her. Then he disappeared.

He likely went to find something, anything, that could reach her. His best bet would be the net, but that was still holding Desiree.

Something flew past Kim. Dark, shark-toothed creatures, without form, shifting chaotically. A swarm of rats flooded through her belly, squeaking and squealing as they charged the open portal. Terrific sounds rang out from all corners, promising more to come.

It was then that Kim began to panic.


	3. Chapter 3

_Danny wasn't going to get a third chance._

As he flew back home, miles ahead of the escape pod carrying his family, he thought about what that meant. What would happen if he didn't fix things? His first thought he easily shook off.

No matter what, there would be no second explosion. Nobody was going to die.

But past that, what would happen?

For starters, no more NASA. No space training, or Mars landing. None of it. Danny was already having trouble in school, but if he failed a test as big as the C.A.T., or even just had it marked incomplete, then it would be all over. Becoming an Astronaut would officially stop being an option, if it ever was one. Hell, he might not even graduate on time.

"What else could happen?" Danny asked the wind. He pictured himself at age twenty, stuck in the same small desk, still in Lancer's class, watching Sam and Tucker move on with their lives through the small screen of his phone. "What could possibly be worse than that?"

It took only a second for Danny to supply an answer to his own rhetorical question: Lancer could talk to his parents, and they would figure out his secret.

Even if they didn't find out everything, didn't know what he really was, they would still do damage. If they started trading notes, every hasty, half thought out lie Danny has ever clumsily slapped together would be revealed. His every move would be put under scrutiny, and his delicate balancing act of a half-life would be over.

"Note to self: think less, fly faster."

He figured he had about a fifty minute head start on his parents – even longer if they had trouble landing. That's more than enough time to find Mr. Lancer and figure something out.

He can do this.

* * *

When Danny finally made it back home he was tired. But it was only when he changed back to human form that he felt the full weight of his morning adventure. His eyes began to drop as he collapsed onto his bed, and Danny had to fight to sit up.

He sat for a minute and rubbed his eyes, and then he remembered what he was trying to do.

"Right. Pockets. Call." He stuck his hand into his jean pocket and pulled out his cellphone. He felt a growing hunger build that pushed past even his deep urge to sleep. Now that his phone was free, Danny transformed again.

A great circle of light grew out from his groaning stomach and slowly changed Danny's tired, human body, into its ectoplasmic counterpart. The stresses of his body subsided and Danny was relieved. He was still tired, but for now he wouldn't fall to it.

Then Danny flipped open his cellphone and called Tucker.

"Hey, Danny," said Tucker, after the second ring; "how'd the test go? You think you passed?" Behind his voice was the distinct sounds of button mashing, and plasma rifles.

"I didn't do the test! Some nut-job and his super-powered side-kick kidnapped me before I even left the house! My parents and Jazz, too."

The button mashing slowed, but it easily picked up again. "Everything is okay now, though, right?" asked Tucker. "I mean, is it all over? Is everyone save?" A faint, familiar jingle signaled a paused game. "Do you need my help? Just tell me where to be."

"Thanks, Tuck. But it's over. The kidnapping part at least. I've moved onto the panicked excuses part. Any idea how I can explain why I skipped the most important re-test of my life?"

"Is this a trick question? Why can't you say you were kidnapped?"

Danny sighed. "Because my parents don't think I was. They think I went to school, and just nearly missed the danger. As usual."

"Man, you have the worst luck."

"I know!" Danny was glad he finally could tell someone about this. He was starting to freak himself out, stuck in his own head. "And there's no way Lancer will just trust me. If I tell him I was kidnapped, he'll want to check with my parents. So, do you have any ideas? I'm all out."

Tucker didn't respond. Danny could hear him breathing, but he didn't say anything. "Tuck? What's going on?"

"Oh, man, I was just checking the news. A lot of people are talking about a huge ship that flew over the city this morning. That what took you? That thing is huge! Do you know who designed it?"

"Drakken, I guess. But he might have stole it."

Tucker hummed. "Hmmm. It looks like nobody knows that they took your family. Either nobody missed you guys, or someone's keeping it quiet."

"I don't know if that's good or bad." Danny ran a hand through his snow-white hair.

The mystery airship was another problem. He'd pushed it aside, but Drakken was still out there, planning Clockwork knows what. No doubt it was something evil, crazy, and really annoying.

Danny shook his head. "Whatever. I've got to track down Mr. Lancer, find out what he thinks happened, and what he plans to do about it. I think Sam's at a protest or something, but call her and see if she has any ideas."

"Will do. In the meantime, I'll look into this Drakken guy. Good luck, Danny."

Danny thanked him, hung up, and then raced out of his room. All the talk about calling gave him an idea. Lancer's not completely prehistoric – he knows how to leave a message.

He snatched the home-phone from its stand on the small table in the hall and checked the messages – there were three. The first two were solicitors, and Danny skipped past them. The third was muffled, and so short it was over before Danny could adjust to the sound. Frowning, he played the message again, his ears sharp and ready.

It was hard to decipher, but it sounded like the voice said: "Great Expectations! Doesn't anyone answer the phone these days!" and then there was a scream. Yep. That was Mr. Lancer alright. It sounded like he held his phone into his shirt while he yelled in frustration, but that scream at the end sounded off.

After dozens of ghost attacks and spirit assembly's, Danny was extremely familiar with the sound of Mr. Lancer's scream. That wasn't it.

Danny played the recording again, but this time the scream came early. It wasn't the recording. Someone was in the house. But they were muffled, even for Danny's super-hearing. . . the lab!

Danny shot straight down through the floor. The lab had heavy soundproofing, so any scream loud enough to break through must be trouble.

Mr. Lancer was going to have to wait just a little longer.

When Danny phased down into the underground laboratory, he found himself suddenly paralyzed in the air, his speed stolen from him. Only his eyes found use, and they were overwhelmed by the sight before them.

Havoc swept across the ruins of the Fenton Lab.

What was once a disordered carnival, a celebration of inspired insanity which showcased designs and devices of engineering wonder, and pure scientific ingenuity, was now another modern art exhibit, presenting a vision of broken glass, spilled chemicals, and twisted metal.

A horde of ghostly rodents beat across the carnage in terror. Packs of them collided and broke apart, only to form new ones, speeding off in new directions. Their neon glow made the process resemble a lava-lamp, but at twenty times the speed.

The rats were not alone. They were stirred into a frenzy by three gruesome blobs. They shifted and changed, and from them grew new parts; each taken from a deadly predator. Sharks teeth. A lions claw. A spiny, thrashing tentacle. They were violence imprinted on ectoplasm, and every rat they caught they pulled into themselves.

In the centre of the storm, the pivot about which it spun, a blonde stranger dressed in black shrieked in terror. A pack of squealing fur and whiskers streaked across his head, and he ducked low, his eyes wild. He clearly wanted to flee, but he didn't. Something held him back.

Danny strained his eyes to see through the chaos. Laying at the strangers feet was a bundle that squirmed, and rolled. Some kind of ghost, he was sure, but it was trapped, and he couldn't see its face.

Danny groaned when he finally recognized the teal colour of what must be her balled up dress.

(He pressed his palm against his temple. Yep. Definitely a headache.)

Desiree! And look at that, the portal was wide open too! What a surprise. Why not invite Vlad and the Fright Night and really make it a party!

It was at that moment Danny stopped and truly appreciated just how terribly his day was going so far. From Drakken to Desiree, it just kept on going.

Even that brief pause from action was interrupted before Danny was ready to let it go. As he swooped down to save the frightened blonde from the lunging predator-ghost, Danny considered how many powerful, all knowing ghosts he'd met, and whether he'd pissed any of them off lately. He'd have to make a list when this was over.

The blonde gave a surprised squeak as Danny slid between him and malformed ghost. The creatures' one bloody eye widened in fear, but it couldn't stop its momentum, and it flew straight into Danny's hard uppercut.

The ghost burst apart in a violent splatter of ectoplasm, far too unstable to hold together or reform. Two more quick blasts destroyed his startled siblings.

The ghost-rats, having three predators turn to one, scattered. Small groups flew out through the unguarded roof and walls, while others scurried back into the portal, and a few continued their loop of the lab, to confused to turn intangible.

Danny would have to go after the escapees, but there was no point until he found a thermos. Besides, they were just mice. Unless they merged into some kind of super mouse, they wouldn't cause too much trouble, outside of a few scares.

A much bigger danger was found tied up behind him. At least, Desiree _should_ be a danger, but seeing her up close, Danny found she was a bit pathetic. Not at all like the powerful genie who could rewrite reality with a wave of her hand.

"What's wrong with you?" asked Danny. "A few weeks ago you almost took over the world. Now you're getting trapped in nets? By this guy?" Danny pointed a thumb at the blonde, who gave an indignant "hey!"

"Not him. . . another," sneered Desiree. She winced and gave a painful sounding groan. "No. . wishes. Not even from ghosts. Not since falling stars."

"Oh, I get it." Danny chuckled. "You got too powerful, so you're being cut off. Nobody wants to be bowing down to Queen Desiree. Well, I'll do you a favour." He grinned. "I'll let you rest in my thermos for a while."

Danny paused as he carefully thought out his next words. "I wish I was holding, in my hands, a working, ghost-capturing, Fenton thermos. And. . ." he continued, cautiously, "I wish you, Desiree, were trapped inside. Unable to escape."

"Your wish is my command," she spat out. She was bitter, but as she felt the rush of power flood through her, she couldn't help a small grin. And then, with a snap, a thermos popped into Danny's hands, damaged, but functioning, and Desiree evaporated through her bondage, into the container.

"Hey, wait a minute!" called the stranger, as Danny floated away.

"I'm not going anywhere," said Danny, annoyed. "If you haven't noticed, I've got a huge mess to clean up. Here, there, and pretty much everywhere. I'm just closing the portal before things get any worse." He gave a bark of a laugh. "If that's even possible!"

"But you can't close it! My friend, Kim, is stuck in there! You've got to go get her!"

Danny spun around, eyes wide. And then, before he could say a word, the doorbell rang.

"Oh, hey!" said the blonde, looking up at the ceiling with a wide smile. "That should be the Guys in White! Maybe they can help!"

* * *

The Ghost Zone was the most amazing place Kim had ever been. It was beautiful and terrifying and so unlike anything else in the world. It wasn't even in the world – it _was_ a world!

Despite never being one for star-gazing, Kim felt that there was something about the Ghost Zone that simply forced her to appreciate it.

Of course, that may have had something to do with her being trapped inside it, floating uncontrollably through an ocean of green. Or maybe not an ocean. A sky? Kim noticed that in the Ghost Zone, states of matter, well, they didn't matter.

Oh, there were loads of rocks, ranging in size from pebble to planetary. And Kim even saw a river off in the distance, and she _was_ breathing, so there must be air. But the rocks weren't solid (at least not for her), the river faded into nothingness like an unfinished drawing, and Kim tried not to think too hard about the air, lest it fade away too.

The worst part about the Ghost Zone was that Kim was incapable of touching anything in it. It meant no ghosts could touch her, which she was thankful for, but it made her feel utterly useless. That feeling was a stranger to Kim, and she wished they hadn't met.

And she had to admit, it was starting to get to her.

She was not going crazy – she'd only been stuck for like twenty minutes! But twenty minutes was normally more than enough time to worm her way free from over a dozen different deathtraps. All of Kim's experience, and ability, had led up to this. She could do nothing.

Nothing except keep calm, and wait. Someone will rescue her.

"Uggh!" Kim gave a frustrated moan. She floated into another purple door – one of the thousands that littered the vast space. As she passed through the other side Kim gave an angry kick.

 _Thunk!_

Her foot connected! She touched the door! With a great smile, Kim reached out for the doorknob. But it slipped through her hand, again untouchable.

Kim narrowed her eyes as she drifted further from the door. "There was no way that was a fluke," she said. She stretched out to grab another door, this one blue. It was a little outside her grasp, but Kim strained her arm, reached as far as she could manage. . . and she brushed the corner of it.

It was solid.

With a determined grin, Kim pulled her grappling hook from her bag and tossed it at the blue door. It passed straight through. Kim gave the rope an angry tug to pull it back, and suddenly the steel hook was scrapping across the wood, leaving three thin grooves. Then it caught on the doorknob, and Kim dragged the door over to her.

But before Kim could touch the floating wood, the unexpected happened.

The door opened.

Nothing at all held that door in place, but it swung open anyway, and revealed a square shaped hole in the green void. A glimpse inside showed it was nothing like the Ghost Zone – the inside looked real. It was a garage, and it could belong to any house on any street in the real world.

But what came through the door wasn't from the real world. It looked human – much more so than Desiree did – but as the boy came through the door, into the Ghost Zone, with his chalky white skin and his leather jacket, he seemed to fit right in.

He had an outcast, bad-boy kinda look, but Kim could tell that this was where he belonged.

The motorcycle roared, and the Ghost circled Kim, his initial glare quickly turning to curiosity.

He pulled up in front of her.

"Hey Babe," he said. "Wanna go for a ride?"


End file.
